"At a red light in the sunshine
On a Sunday
Some are comin' home
Some are leavin' town
While my world's crashin' down
On a Sunday
In the sunshine
At a red light"
I guess my life really is a country song. These lyrics describe my day, yesterday. Plain and simple. Again, this wasn't our month.
Yesterday afternoon, my period arrived. I knew before it even happened. I didn't really have any kind of reaction. I didn't cry (at that point). I cried literally, at a red light. In traffic. On a Sunday. In the sunshine, that finally decided to make an appearance after the crazy weekend weather. On Steve's shoulder. As he drove.
After leaving a few, big tear stains on his shirt, clutching his non driving arm for comfort, I quickly got a hold of myself.
But, then the night came. The tears that came last night weren't like ones I have cried in a long time. I was up all night, restless, so uncomfortable from the "lovely reminder" that it didn't happen for us again. Steve lay dead asleep next to me. Completely unaware that I was having my own little pity party. The tears were the gut twisting kind. The kind that leave you feeling like you just took 5 back to back ab classes.
And as much as I keep saying, I don't know why I'm getting so emotional, I think deep down I know. I know that as each month passes, I am getting closer to letting go. Letting go hurts. It hurts like hell. Part of me wishes I could say I am ready to turn the page and start the next chapter. Part of me knows I'm still healing. And I certainly know I need to be in a healthier place both physically and emotionally. This is what is so tough. When people say, "Oh, you need to relax" or "Stress isn't good for you!"...Yea, we all get that. But let's face it. Who the heck can relax with all this. I mean, I can in bits and pieces. I'm not always stressed. I'm not always a crazy lady. (Okay, yes, I totally am) Maybe this sounds super negative and ungrateful. I don't mean it to. But, it's like our little vacation a few weeks ago. It is almost as if it never occurred. I am beyond thankful for that break and that time to take it easy. I am so happy to have spent so much quality time with my husband. I'm happy our fertile stage fell during that time. That it was actually fun and not all "Drill Sgt. Maria and her combat boots n' whistles".
But a vacation isn't "the cure" for this kind of pain. It is a healthy escape from it. But we can't run away from our life. We can't expect everything to just fall into place because we breathed a little easier for a week and a half. And I knew this all along. I guess the whole "just relax and it will happen bit" makes me angry because it isn't that easy. And I so wish it was true and we could have been that couple that "it just happened once they relaxed" for. With the added complication of Steve's inversion, we don't have the odds on our side. Surely, relaxing doesn't change DNA.
I'm sad. I'm sad because I sometimes resist tears and pain in front of Steve because I don't want to make him feel guilty. But I'm also sad because, as much as I don't wish the physical pain and certain emotional aspects of this on him...
I know he could never fully understand what I'm going through. And sometimes I wonder what he is thinking. He voices his thoughts, his cares and concerns and lets me cry until my eyes fall out.
Last night, I was upset. Upset that he could just sleep. Fall asleep in .2 seconds and be snoring in .3. I was upset because I didn't want to wake him up because he deserved a good night's sleep. And I was extremely envious that sleep comes so easy to him with all we have going on. Hey, I think it's great for him. Rather at least one of us be catching some z's. But, I can't lay there anymore and cry like that while he literally plays songs out of his nose with his insane snoring.
So, I got out of bed, walked down the hallway and went into one of the spare bedrooms. The one that is supposed to be a nursery. I brought my laptop. My headphones. A glass of juice and some excedrine. And I lost it. I felt so numb and shaky all at the same time. I prayed out loud. I talked to the cats (don't laugh) as they came following, like, "ohhh, let's see what we have in here"...
I begged for the adrenaline to stop taking over my body. Eventually, sometime early this morning, it did. The last time I remember seeing the clock was 5:08.
Unfortunately, I woke up at 9:30. But thankfully, I had absolutely nothing to do and nowhere to be today. So, as it is now nighttime, I am still in my pajamas. My hair is swept up in a scary mess on top of my head and my face, still has that sticky, dirty tear stained feeling. The day has got progressively better. I've done absolutely nothing but listen to music, look at old pictures, make a million trips to the bathroom - thanks to my lovely, very heavy visitor...and text and read blogs.
There are a trillion things I could start typing about. But for now, I just want to take some more time and sort things out and enjoy the house to myself. It serves as some peace. Steve is at a football draft. And to be honest, I'm glad. I mean, I'm not upset he's gone. I have learned over the past years what a night alone, with no noise and no one to talk or cry to, can do for the soul.
So, I think I'm going to turn on some music, make myself dinner and find some laughs whether on tv or online.
*Two posts in a row without any pictures!? What is happening here, people? No worries, I have plenty from last week and this past weekend for an upcoming post.
While looking through old pictures today, I came across many videos. One that made me "AWWWW and Omygoodness" 132 times and one that made me laugh so incredibly hard I could have peed myself. While deciding which one I should add to this post, to make up for my usual lack of photos, and to bring a little lightheartedness to this post...
I quickly came to a decision.
I highly doubt Steve would be too happy with me if I posted the first video. One of him in our living room, with nothing but boxer briefs on and a virtual "Wii hula hoop" around his waist. Let's just say, Steve CAN hula. He beats my score every darn time. And it is HILARIOUS!
So, we will go with a video from June 2009. Right after we moved in this house and Krimpet's kitties were born. One of those kitties was Twinkie. Who was born, Senor Twinkie.
Just a little taste of my crazy cat lady-ness and SO MUCH FLUFFY, CHEER UP, CUTENESS!!
Can you believe, in just a little over 2 years, that the tiny little mister in the video turned into...
THIS!?!
"I'm not fat. I'm big boned!"
A lot can happen in two years.
I can't thank you all enough for your thoughtful comments and emails after my last post. I truly appreciate each and every one of them. Thank you.
So, day two is almost coming to an end. It was a tough two days. And I pray the week gets better, if even slowly. I pray that in time, we see that green light. In whatever way it gets here...I hope it is making its way. Letting us know, if we need to, it is time to let go.
Monday night LOVE,
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